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The Dead Moms Club

When my mom died, I was told that I'd joined a club. It’s one we'll all be a part of one day—some of us just join a little early.


Part of the club?

Share your story.

I'm coming up on the two-year anniversary of my mom's death and I'm overflowing with feels. Part of my cup is full of sadness, of course, but the other part is fuuull of motivation.

I have been so lucky to spend the last few years getting to know special people who are in this Club with me, and it's been what gets me through shitty stretches like the holidays, anniversaries, etc. (okay... all the days).

In honour of all the amazing people who have helped me through my grief, I'm collecting and sharing stories about all y'all's mamas. 

I welcome you to submit your story, quotes, recipes—whatever you want to share about you, your mom, and your life before and after her death.


Dead Moms Club — Starry Night

We all have different beliefs about where our mom goes after she dies — the heavens, the ground, in a box on our bookshelf. But this design was inspired by what I'd consider to be some of the hardest moments in grieving: when your questions, the universe, and your loss feels too big. In those moments it's easy to feel alone, but then I remember that those of us in The Club are in it together.

25x25mm; black & silver enamel pin w/clasp back

Produced in Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada (my mom's hometown)

Dead Moms Club — Floral

After funerals end, gifted flowers fade quickly and die (as if the first death wasn't enough). This pin was inspired by the need for a floral token of remembrance that would keep its colour long past Mother's Day and the birthday anniversaries we might not buy bouquets on anymore. 

39x25mm; red, green, black & copper enamel pin w/clasp back

Produced in Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada (my mom's hometown)